What do you see, darling?
by Joanna May
Summary: Narcissa makes a visit to Azkaban. Post Deathly Hallows.


The slowly sinking sun sent shadows slinking across the spacious lawns. A bumblebee buzzed around a narcissus flower, as it swayed in the light evening breeze. The sweet scent of snapdragon hovered around the grounds, as the handsome hazel tree leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. Silence reigned supreme, marred only by the birdsong that seemed to come from everywhere, and yet nowhere at all.

It was almost like paradise on Earth, Narcissa mused. And yet, these were not the gardens of Eden or Tamoanchan. No, these were the grounds of the feared Azkaban. Despite being located somewhere in the North Sea; the Dementors had formed these perfect pieces of paradise to torment their pitiful prisoners. From behind their windows in their cold, cruel cells, the inmates felt every blade of lush green grass, always just achingly out of reach. Well, those that had not already bid their sanity farewell, that was.

The formidable fortress that stood tall and terrible over the great gardens was in itself the epitome of misery. Whereas the gardens provided welcome calm and thinking space for the visitors, the prison itself was enough to drive you insane.

Narcissa felt it every time she set foot in that place. Wave upon wave of cold misery crashed down upon you, getting into your very blood. Your worst memories became reality, becoming animate and far too realistic for comfort. It was like a giant beast clawing at your heart, tearing you to shreds from within. The same desperation a drowning man feels when he knows his cries are inaudible to those on the shore. No, worse. They aren't inaudible, they're just ignored.

It was a hot July day when Narcissa stepped off the ferry for this particular visit, and yet the moment she stepped into the fortress, every last shred of warmth fled her, as though the very air in this hellhole had somehow tainted her. She did not want to shiver, and let the Dementors know how uncomfortable she was, and yet she could not help it.

Taking her usual seat in the visiting room, Narcissa noted once again that she was the only visitor. She had never seen another wife or lover visiting their spouse. No reassurances and loving comfort for the men and women caged like animals in a zoo. There was no-one to tell the condemned that they would be alright, that everything was just a mistake and that they wouldn't die alone and despised in this pit.

She lifted her eyes from the cold, granite table as he was pulled into the room. His hands and feet were shackled; his normal proud and intimidating swagger replaced by an awkward shuffle. His hair had grown, it now lay long down his back. It was messed up, as though he had spent many hours rubbing his hands against his scalp, trying to drive the monsters from his mind. His eyes- oh, his eyes.

They had always been his best features, in Narcissa's opinion. Cold and grey to outsiders, they flooded with warmth and affection when he looked at her. The way his eyes creased at the sides as he smiled, and they danced when he was amused, or teasing. Now, there was nothing. They bored into her face, blank and unseeing. Any trace of emotion had long gone, they had been reduced simply tools with which to see that which tormented him, sunk deep into hollow sockets.

Narcissa took a deep breath. She knew by now that he was incapable of starting a conversation. Indeed, maintaining one was a struggle, yet she was determined to persevere whilst she still could. Give it a few months, maybe even weeks, and he would be the same as every other inmate of this place. Just an empty shell, where once stood a proud man.

"How are you, darling?" She asked, forcing herself to plaster a cheerful smile on her carefully made up face.

"The same as ever" He replied, his voice a dispassionate monotone.

"Are they feeding you?"

"Yes. Once a day. Bread and water, sometimes that piss they call water." He made a half-hearted attempt at a shrug, his shoulders twitching lethargically. "Enough to keep me dead without actually dying".

She smiled slightly. This was what she came for; the reassurance that somewhere inside, however deep, the man she knew remained. She continued making conversation with him. Idle chit-chat from the society that meant to much to her. It was almost nice to have a sounding board; someone who would listen and not criticise her loose tongue.

"…and then there's Pansy Parkinson. Just got engaged to the Nott boy. Plenty of money he has, you remember me telling you about his father? How he died from dragonpox last autumn?" She flinched as he grabbed her hand, digging his untrimmed nails into her fingers with an alarming force. "Darling?"

"I see them." He rasped, his voice gone from the bland yet human tones, to those of an animal. "Every night."

A shadow passed across her face, and she felt her heart break in two. It was already happening. He was losing his mind. She had seen it before, in Bellatrix. This was how it all began. First, they lost their sense of self, then they lose their sense of humanity. Finally, they'd lose their senses altogether. The incoherent ramblings were just the start.

"What do you see, darling?" She asked, her voice soothing.

"The Mudbloods. The Muggles. I see them every night and it kills me. Like I killed them" He groaned, his voice going up an octave. "I killed them, and I enjoyed it. They wont stop screaming!"

He was becoming agitated, and Narcissa felt a Dementor shift, as though moving in for the kill. She had to calm him, or they'd take him away from her. Take him away, just as they'd taken everyone else she had loved. There was too much emotion in him for them to resist. Although she could not see their faces, she knew they were eyeing him up as a child would a Chocolate Frog.

"Calm yourself, dear." She stroked his hand gently, as she had done whenever he had been agitated in the past. "You can get through this, I promise you."

"I see them! Every minute of the night, I see them. They _twitch_ and they _writhe_ and they _scream_. Their eyes…I can see everything and it's all my fault. My fault…I did it. They won't forgive me! And _they won't go away_!" He looked her straight in the eyes, his brow twitching maniacally.

His voice became a piercing scream, and suddenly Narcissa realises that it is she who is screaming. Pushing her chair roughly back from the table, she turned on her heel and fled. It was only a short distance to the exit, and she was running as fast as she could.

Bursting out into the perfectly manicured gardens, she stops running. The ferocious beast that had been shredding her heart released its grip, allowing her to breathe once again. Bent double, her breath came in ragged gasps as she tries to regain her sanity. He was her one last hope, her one companion. Everyone else had left her, but she had still had him, until now. Now she was all alone and it _killed _her.

She could still hear his screams as she composed herself, only she blocked them out.

"MOTHER!" His voice resonated down the deserted halls and out through the still open door, piercing her heart yet again.

"I can't keep loving you any more. It hurts me too much. I have to let go. ". She muttered to herself, scrubbing at her cheek as tears trickled down her otherwise composed face. "I'm sorry, Draco."


End file.
